Right in front of you
by Sunnyqueen
Summary: Being a hitter means, basically, one thing: loneliness. Because you don't know who is a friend and who is an enemy. Because friends could turn out to be enemies. And enemies could turn out to be friends. And Eliot Spencer, knew that by heart. M/M. Rated M for a reason.
1. Chapter 1

**This is my first Leverage fic. Settled in some point between **_The Lonely Hearts Job**, **The Last Dam Job**,**_** and then basically it's from my own although there might be some spoiler form the 5th season.**

**I want to thank Wakko's minion for the help and for putting up with my endless craziness and listening to my ideas and helping me to deepen them.**

**I hope you'll like it.**

* * *

Nate had Sophie. Hardison had Parker. And whom he had? No one. As always. Yeah, he had a lot of one-night stands but they were meaningless for him: one night, one girl. It had been like that for the past ten years. Not that he had really minded too much before, but since he was part of that family, that very crazy, weird and dysfunctional family, all his world was upside down. He had never been the good guy until then. Hell, his head had price in three countries now, he was wanted dead or alive in four more (he shouldn't have done that job in Somalia two weeks ago) and there was that fatwa issue going on too!

He opened the door to his apartment and went to the sofa, where he slumped carelessly, not even bothering to switch the lights open.

He had never cared about love or family when he was with Moreau. Because he didn't needed it. He had everything a guy could want: a job he liked, money and girls. And a boss that let him do whatever he wanted, not like Chapman, to whom Moreau seemed to have a leash on, meaning that Damien didn't trust him at all. Moreau had never put a leash on him, never questioned his methods, because he was the best man he got.

And now… Now he was sending flowers anonymously to Parker and Sophie to help Hardison and Nate to step up his love game. This wasn't him by any means.

He missed the old days; the days where he wouldn't need anyone, the days he worked alone or in a team he would never see again and yet, he found himself not wanting to get away from his new family.

As days went by, he started thinking more and more and more to the point he was almost sulking. And that wasn't something his teammates would miss.

"What do you think is wrong with Eliot?" Sophie asked.

"Eliot is sick?" Parker asked as she ate her Cheerio cereals.

"No Parker…" The dark haired woman replied as she sat down next to Nate. "He is been quiet."

"Eliot is always quiet." The older male objected.

"Ok, yes, he is quiet. But he is been _quieter_ than usual." She said.

"I must agree with that." Hardison said without taking off his eyes from the screen since he was playing World of Warcraft. "And he barely comes here. Only if it's for a job, and he used to spend a lot time here."

"Why don't we go visit him, then?" Parked asked, looking at everyone with a smile.

"Because he would punch us." Hardison said.

"Actually, he would punch _you_. Besides, does anyone know where his house is?" Nate asked as his hand rested on Sophie's thigh.

And it was then that they realised that they had no idea where was Eliot's house. As a matter of fact, they didn't know much about him: that he was from the South, that he was an excellent cook and singer, that he liked horses, knew how to kill and that he had been in the army and that he had worked for Moreau.

"I could locate him with the GPS of his phone." The black male said as he stopped playing to do so. "It's off." He sighed.

"And you won't find his house by putting his name on the navigator or whatever you use." Nate said.

"Why not?" The thief asked.

"Parker, in many black lists, Eliot Spencer is probably one of the first names you would find. Would you buy a house using your real name knowing that a lot of people want your head?" Sophie asked.

"Humm…" She said and Alec chuckled.

"The answer is no, babe."

At that, the door opened and the object of their chatting crossed the door and stopped short when four pair of eyes settled on him. "What?" He said with his usual gruffy tone.

"Nothing man." Hardison said waving him off and Eliot growled at him.

"Any job?" The just arrived man asked, looking at the brains of the team.

"Not yet. W-where are you going? You just got here." Ford said, arching an eyebrow: Eliot was always hard to read, but it was getting harder everyday that went by.

"My apartment." He growled and then closed the door again, only to have Parker open it again.

"Eliot! Can I…?" She started to say.

"No."

The blond came back in and sat down on the sofa, furrowing. "Parker, you know how Eliot is, just… let him be." Sophie said, patting her knee.

* * *

And that behaviour continued unless they were in exciting cons: his mood would lift up; he would be in his usual bickering with Hardison… Just like he used to be.

And then, one day, they were against Dubenich. Again.

"Where is Eliot?" Nate asked when he realised that the hitter was nowhere to be found.

"Probably in his way back from Kiev, Ukraine." Hardison replied.

"Ukraine? And what is he doing there? He found someone to recruit? An old friend?" Sophie asked.

"Actually… It's Quinn. You know, the guy who tried to kill Eliot during the First David Con. Remember?" Hardison asked.

"He is bringing someone who tried to kill him? And then you say I'm the crazy one." Parker huffed.

"Well, if Eliot trusts him, we'll trust him too." Nate said.

One day after, they were reunited in the _Bat cave_ as the two geeks named it. Eliot could feel many eyes on him and although he didn't care, it was a bit annoying.

"What the hell is this?" Quinn asked him when they were hanging the 'Old Nate' portrait.

"Don't ask." He replied, smirking and Quinn smiled right back at him, as if they had never tried to kill each other. And not just once.

"So, how is it being part of the good guys?" Quinn asked, sitting on the stairs next to Elliot.

"Strange. But you get you used to it. Besides, I still do my fair share of jobs where I'm still the bad guy." He smirked and the younger hitter nodded.

"So the Legend hasn't died." The blond male said and Eliot chuckled as he shook his head.

"Legend?" Sophie said from behind them. "Who is the Legend?"

"Eliot." Quinn said matter-of-factly. "Wait. You don't know?"

"Know what?" The British sat one step behind them, interested and Eliot grumbled something under his breath.

"Eliot is The Legend in the hitter world. I mean, every single one of us wants to be like him. I'm going to be the envy of every single hitter I know when I say that I got to work with you." Right at that moment, Quinn looked like a child with a new toy for Christmas.

"A legend." Sophie repeated, shocked. Yes, she knew that Eliot was extremely good at his job, but, _that_ good? Nope, she always thought there was someone way better than their hitter.

"Yeah. He knows how to do everything. And he's the one that has the highest prices for his head. At least nowadays." He explained her, smiling a bit. "Let's put an example: Parker is known for being one of the best thieves in the world, right?"

"Right."

"Then Eliot is our Parker." He concluded and Spencer huffed. "A bit saner, I'd say."

"I see. So we had the Legend working with us for three years and we didn't know about it. Just wrong." She patted Eliot's shoulder before she went with Nate.

And later, while he was sitting next to Eliot fucking Spencer he could understand why he didn't want to walk away: they really were a family and were decided to protect each other, to _die_ for each other. Nate and Sophie were Mom and Dad, Eliot the eldest son, and Parker and Hardison the babies.

He watched Spencer: strong arms crossed over his chest, legs slightly parted, his hair lying around his face… The man was just sexy as hell.

He heard Chaos say something and the Hardison and then Chaos… How did Eliot listen to that _every fucking day_?

"Can I hit him?" He asked, staring at the hackers.

"Which one?"

"Either one."

He saw how Eliot turned to Sophie and said: "See? It's not just me."

After getting the details of the plan, the hitters and the hackers went on their missions, and by the time they came back (Quinn and Chaos completely soaked) the blond was about to kill the hacker.

"Hey, calm down, we still need him." The Southerner said, placing a hand in his shoulder and pressing slightly, smiling softly, when he saw Quinn lifting his fist to hit Chaos. "Wanna go grab a beer?"

Quinn could only nod, dumbstruck: Eliot Spencer just asked him to go have a drink with him. Well, that was highly unexpected, truth to be told.

As they left the cave, he saw Sophie staring at the both of them, as if she was trying to read passed them.

He didn't see her smile, though.

"Where are we going?" He asked as he climbed in Eliot's car.

"A bar near my house." The older man replied as he reeved the car a couple of times before speeding off. "Good beer, good music... but the best of it? Fights. Most of them are from the army, and not only the U.S army. Is a good way to keep in shape since they don't really like hitters." He winked at him and Quinn could feel his cheeks heating up a little.

"They know about your job?"

"Well, most of them have seen me in their camp doing not-so-legal-things."

"Such as?"

"Such as killing some of their captains." He replied, smirking.

"I thought you were a patriot." Quinn pointed out.

"And I am. That's why I killed the people who were putting our country in danger. Although they don't see it like that."

When they reached the bar, everyone turned around to see who was stepping in but they didn't mind that it was Spencer and went back to their previous actions, although there were some who growled at him, but when they saw the other hitter, more than one stood up.

"A businessman?" The bartender said to Eliot. "You brought here a business man? You know the folks around here don't like suit-up man very much."

"I'm not exactly a businessman." Quinn replied as he sat down too.

"Then what's up with the suit?" He asked and Eliot chuckled besides him.

"Not all the hitters dress like him." The blond said pointing to Spencer.

"He's a hitter?"

"He is a hitter." The one with blue eyes replied, taking a sip of his bottle.

"He doesn't look like one. Are you working together?"

"You could say that, yeah." Quinn said, nodding. "What's good around here?" He asked to his rival-friend.

"Beer." Eliot replied lifting his own.

"He has never tried anything else." The bartender said. "I'm Rick."

"Quinn." They shook hands. "So, why everyone in here are ex-marines, ex-soldiers…?" He asked Eliot and the bartender.

"Most of them live around here. And it's a good way to share old stories." The older hitter said, turning his chair around a bit so he was facing the blond.

"Have you ever shared yours?"

"With them? Yeah right. See the guys in the west corner? I killed their Captain. Captains, actually. Not a good story to tell." He smirked and looked at him in the eye. "What about you? Do you want to share yours with them?"

"Not really. I don't think the guys next to the door would appreciate to meet the guy who killed their mother." He said pointing at two males from Northern Africa.

"I see. Libya?"

"Tunisia." Quinn said, smiling. "Can I ask you something? You don't have to answer if you don't want to." He quickly said, drawing a line.

"Shoot."

Quinn stared at him, admiring the bright blue eyes. The wyes where he had seen hurt, hate and pain and that now were relaxed and looking at him playfully. "What happened in Myanmar?"

And the eyes changed to something he couldn't define.

* * *

**Well, that's all for now. I'm sorry for the mistakes, English is not my mother tongue.**

**Reviews are really appreciated. **


	2. Chapter 2

Eliot smirked at the memory of Myanmar, when he was still legal in the country and his head didn't have a price of half a million dollar. There were some very fine women in there, by the way.

"I might or might not be the one who killed the President in 2000." He replied.

"Was it…? Was it a job for… for him?" He asked, tilting his head.

"No. I wasn't working for Moreau anymore by then." Eliot took a long swing of his beer and smirked at him. "Want to tell me what happened in Chad?"

"Ohh… Chad." Quinn chuckled at the memory. "I might or might not have blew up a Pakistan committee." And, for the first time, he heard Eliot laughing. Laughing so hard he almost fell of his stool. "What?"

"Let me guess. 2001."

"How did you know?" He asked, greatly surprised.

"I saw it from afar. I was in the Palace playing to be a U.S. General." He explained. "Had to steal a car and get away because they thought it was me. In the end they proved it wasn't me."

Now it was Quinn's turn to laugh.

And Eliot couldn't help but admire the way Quinn's eyes narrowed or how white his teeth were or to enjoy the sound of his laugh.

They spent some more time at the bar before they decided to step out since most of the guys were glaring at them not too friendly.

"Where are you going to sleep?" Eliot asked, leaning against the car, one leg propped up.

"I'm going to book a room to a hotel. Why?" He asked, cocking his head to the side, a lock of blond hair following the movement.

"Wanna stay at my place?" The older hitter suggested. "I mean, I brought you here, it's the least I can do."

And Quinn couldn't just believe it: Eliot appeared when he was about to end up at the bottom of the Desna, offered him a job, then to go out with him and now he was asking him to stay at his place. He was discovering a new facet of Eliot Spencer that only made his awesomeness bigger at his eyes. And what he liked the most of it was the fact that he was sure that no one ever got to see it.

"Sure." He replied, nodding. "Is it far?"

"Around the corner." The slightly smaller man said and then prodded him to follow. They arrived at a seven-story building and without a word they made it to the pent-house.

"Wow." He said when he saw it. It was simple, but it didn't surprise him. They, hitters, didn't spend too much time at home, so, why bother on putting a lot of staff? Besides, they needed to have space, basic training. Hitters, marines, soldiers… they received the same kind of education. There wasn't much furniture. As a matter of fact, everything he could see were a collection of swords, mainly katanas, a long dark wood table in the middle of the room, a black leather sofa and a wall that was covered in shelves. One shelf was full of literature books, another one had a very fine music player and the third one was filled with catalogued folders. There was also a smaller shelf full of CDs. "It's beautiful." He praised as he turned around to look at the man behind him.

"Thanks. Come." Quinn followed Eliot to a corridor. "You can have this room, mine is here." He pointed at the door in his back. "Bathroom, training room and washing machine room. Can use what you want. Unless the kitchen. You can take drinks and whatnot, but do not touch the food, alright?"

Quinn broke a smile. "So, is it true that the legendary Eliot Spencer can actually cook restaurant quality food?" He teased, praying to God not to being going too far.

"Keep Chaos alive and I'll show what Eliot Spencer can do in a kitchen." The blue-eyed man said.

"Deal." They shook hands before they chuckled. "What are we doing now?" The blond questioned.

"What do you want to do?" He asked back.

"I was going to ask you to show me around, but it's pretty late so… How about we just talk?" He suggested.

"Doesn't sound so bad at all." They sat down on the sofa, far enough so they wouldn't touch each other, but close enough to feel the other's warmness. "You're my guest, ask first."

"How did you meet each other?" He asked, sitting Indian style and letting his hair loose.

Quinn watched, mesmerised, how Eliot's features visibly softened and relax at the thought of his family. "Dubenich hired Parker, Hardison and me to steal some airplane plans back for him and Nate was meant to direct us. We never got paid. So we put him in jail after we discovered that we weren't stealing _back_ anything, we were just _stealing_. And before we started with the actual con, Nate brought Sophie in." He explained. "My turn, how did you end up working with fucking Sterling?"

"We met in China. At a bar. He was doing something for I.Y.S and I was finishing a job in there. He was drunk as shit and started to talk about Nate, and Sophie, and Parker and Hardison and then… you. He literally said 'And there's this motherfucker who beats everything and everyone down. I'm going to bring him to tribunals.' You don't have a good relationship, do you?"

"He has tried to kill me, wanted to bring me to Myanmar, got into the Interpol thanks to us and drugged me, so no, we do not have a good relationship." He growled.

"Well, and then I said I knew who you were, he said if I wanted a job, I needed the money and you know the rest."

Since neither of them slept much, they spent most of the night talking: jobs, music, people they both knew, comparing scars… For a long time, Eliot felt happy. Happy to have someone to whom he could talk without scaring him off. Someone who understood him.

Quinn find out that Eliot had one older sister who, at least, had one child, Charles, that he didn't like animals, that he loved reading and country music and learned to cook in Belgium.

Eliot learned that Quinn's first name was Michael, that he used to have a dog named Toby when he was a kid and that he had always worked alone until then.

"Spencer?" He said.

"Yeah."

"What about that rumour that said that you killed your own crew in Bogotá?" This was one of the reasons of why Eliot Spencer was so famous, because if you messed with him, he wouldn't have a problem on eliminating you.

"True. They tried to kill me, I killed them." He shrugged. "What about that incident in the Kremlin?"

"Partially false. I did kill the mark, but I did not leave him hanging on the highest tower. That was someone else's doing." Quinn relied as he ate the Pad Thai they had ordered. "Osaka 2004?"

"Totally bogus. Mainly because I've never been to Osaka. What about Germany 2006?"

"True. Spent two months in that damn jail. Horrible food." He shook his head and Eliot chuckled.

"Can't be worst than the one they gave me when I was playing to be a homeless in a experiment to break down people for a con." He said.

"What was it about?"

Eliot told him everything, from the mark to what they did to them, or, at least to him.

"So they brought a professional interrogator who would yell at you? Didn't they do a research before?"

"They did. But too late. They didn't even ask our names."

"How did it end?"

"Well, I proved the interrogator's theory wrong and then we tricked the mark onto telling us everything." He shrugged and smiled. "We should head to bed, in less than three hours we should be back at the cave."

"Ok." As they moved to the bedrooms, Quinn grabbed Eliot's wrist. "Hey."

"What's up?"

"Just wanted to thank you for letting me sleep in here." He could feel his cheeks heating up a bit and he was thankful that the hallway's light weren't on.

"Nonsense. Good night."

As he lay on the bed, Eliot couldn't help but smile a little: he was thrilled that Quinn had agreed to stay at his house. He had never talked about the stuff he had done before with any of his teammates, not only because he didn't want to be left out once they knew everything he had done, but because he wanted to protect them, specially Parker and Hardison. He knew that Quinn wouldn't ask things that could hurt him, just the same way he wouldn't ask him questions that Quinn couldn't reply.

"Where's Eliot?" Nate asked next morning when he didn't see the hitter around. "And Quinn?"

"They left together yesterday night." Alec replied. "Want me to call him?"

"Yes, please." He said and Hardison called Spencer.

"**What?" **Came from the other end.

"Where are you?"

"**Car."**

"Okay. What about Quinn? Do you know where he is?"

"**With me. In five we are here."**

The hacker turned to Nate "He says in five minutes they are here." He said and Nate nodded.

"So they were together?" Sophie asked, surprised.

"Seems so."

It wasn't long until both hitters joined them in the cave. They sat down at their respective seats, hands almost touching when they both put them on the table.

Nate explained them the plan for the next day and then each one went back to different activities: the hackers where playing some of their games, Archie and Parker where remembering old times, Nate and Sophie involved in a deep conversation of their own.

"Wanna tell me about this horrible painting?" Quinn said, pointing at the Old Nate painting.

"Hey!" Hardison said, offended.

"He painted it. To make the Leverage more real or I don't know what. I don't really listen to him." Eliot replied. "But it drives Nate mad so… we keep it just for that." Quinn chuckled and nodded.

They kept chatting amicably.

"Did they seriously try to kill each other?" Archie asked to her protégé watching the two hitters playfully wrestling on a matt that Nate had put in a corner for them.

"Oh yeah. Quinn gave Eliot a bad concussion and a broken rib. Eliot broke him a rib too and left him unconscious at the hangar." She said, her legs hanging off the table.

"Well, they seem to have move on from that." The eldest man said.

"Yeah. I think it's hot." She said.

"Parker, I'm not talking with you about this." Archie said, smiling at the blond girl, who beamed at him.

"Have you noticed?" Sophie asked Nate.

"What?"

"Eliot. In less than twenty-four hours he seems a totally new person. When was the last time you heard him laughing like that?" She asked, sitting down on the table in front of Nate.

Ford furrowed, thinking. "When he tried to teach Hardison how to cook and Hardison got burned." He replied after a few minutes.

"Exactly. That was like three weeks ago. I'm glad to see that he is happy. I'm not that happy that is Quinn the one who provides this happiness, though."

"Let him be, Sophie. Eliot is a big boy, he can take care of himself." The man said, stroking her knee gently.

"I know, I know." She sighed in response.

"Hey blondie!" Quinn turned around to stare at the white hacker with devil eyes. "Where did you sleep last night?" He asked.

"Doesn't concern you." He replied as he removed his shirt, which was soaked in sweat, just like Eliot's.

"It actually does. What if you got killed? How would we know if we don't know where to find you?" Ford said, approaching them.

Eliot rolled his eyes before Quinn replied. "I'm staying at his house." He growled as he put another shirt on.

"His… house?" Hardison said, shocked and hurt. He had known Eliot for about four years and he had never been invited to his house and Quinn, the guy who tried to kill him, not only had been invited, he was also sleeping there.

"Yeah. What about it?"

There was a really thick and uncomfortable silence before Sophie spoke up. "We've never been… in his house." She said.

"Never?" Parker shook her head. "Eliot?" He turned around, but the oldest hitter wasn't there. "Eliot?"


	3. Chapter 3

**This one is a bit longer that the other, but I wanted to make some points clear.**

**Of course, I know nothing about military so that basically came from my mind. I want to excuse myself for the mistakes that you'll probably find.**

**Thanks for reading!**

* * *

Sophie sneaked out of the cave and headed outside, smiling when he saw Eliot sat down at the pavement.

"Hey. You okay?" She asked, sitting down next to him.

"Yeah." He replied.

"C'mon Eliot, I can tell something is going on and I want to help you out with it if I can." The British said, placing a hand in his arm.

Eliot let out a breath, knowing that he could trust Sophie in matters like that. "Are you… angry?"

"For what? Because you didn't invite us at your house?" She didn't get an answer, but she knew the hitter enough to understand his very special body language. "Look, Eliot, I told you before, you don't have to tell us anything. I understand that you don't want us sneaking into your private life and I totally respect that. It took me more than one year to tell you my real name. You don't want us to invade your personal space, that's fine with me. And with Nate too, but you should talk with Hardison and Parker. To Hardison you are his best friend and for Parker… you are like a big brother."

"I know that." He sighed and rubbed his eyes. "I never meant to hurt you, I's just that Quinn knows things."

"Things? Like what?"

"Like what it is to be a hitter, for a starter. He knows how to joke around with things that will scare you for life, he knows some things that I've done that not even Hardison could find."

"Do you trust him?" She asked softly.

"Quinn? Yeah."

"He tried to kill you." The grifted pointed.

"It was a job, Sophie. He was paid to do a job and he had to do it, even if he didn't success. Do you know how many people I was target to murder have haired me back to protect them? A lot." He chuckled before he tucked his hair behind his ears. "Want me to tell you how Damien hired me in the first place?"

"Damien?"

"Moreau." He always forgot not to call his old boss for his first name when he was around the others and she nodded. "I killed his grand-father. Jacques Moreau was the head of a criminal organisation in France and I was hired to kill him. Not a big deal if it wasn't for the fifteen bodyguards who were always with him. I succeed on my mission: I killed Jacques Moreau plus his guards. And, one day I hear his grandson is looking for me."

"What did you do?" Devereaux asked, startled that Eliot is telling her all of this. Something from his past.

"Snuck into is house, into his dinning room and waited for him after knocking his men." He shrugged. "We got a deal and then I became the best man he ever got."

"So you killed his grandfather and he hired you to protect him?"

"Yeah. This is how our world works, Sophie. None of your rules applies to us. We have our own code."

"Did ever occurred to him that you could turn against him?"

"I don't think so. Among all the things I'm known for, one of them is being loyal. And with a good sum of money…

"Yeah, I got it." She smiled and patted his shoulder when she heard steps approaching.

Sophie nodded at Quinn who nodded back before standing next to Eliot, visibly uncomfortable.

"Did I mess up?" The blond asked after a few minutes of silence.

"What?"

"Did I mess up?" He repeated.

"No. No. It's my fault, you didn't do anything wrong." The southerner calmed him and patted the spot next to him. "Are you still going to stay at my house?"

"Only if you want me to."

"Sure. I like having someone to whom I can talk without scaring him off." Spender said, smiling at him.

"Yeah. I like that too." They sat down. "Why haven't you invited them?"

"Don't need them asking and/or going through my files." He said and smiled up at him.

After a few minutes, they stepped inside the cave and Eliot went to Parker and Hardison. "Can we talk?" He asked them.

"Do _you_ want to talk?" Hardison countered, folding his arms, making clear that he was angry with him.

"Would I be here if I didn't?" The hitter replied harshly and then sighed. "Look, guys I'm sorry. I truly am." He was uncomfortable doing that, he wasn't known to apologise and it had been really long since the last time he had done to someone he really cared about. "But I need my space. In need to have something that you can't steal and you can't hack and that's my house." He said pointing at each one respectively.

And they could tell that Eliot really did mean it, that he was sorry for not having considered their feelings.

"But why did you let him in? He tried to kill you." The hacker said, frowning.

"Because I know you two. You would start asking questions. Questions I couldn't reply. You two have never seen what I've seen. No one in this room has ever seen or done things like the ones I have. Not even Quinn. And I intend to keep it that way. So please, don't ask me to bring you to my house because some things that you could find there would scare you for life." The hitter said, voice calm and low.

"You still haven't answered my question." Hardison said. Parker was just listening, without interrupting, strange thing on her.

"Do you respect him?" Eliot asked as he pointed Chaos.

"Him? No! Why would I?"

"That's the biggest difference between our worlds: you hackers don't respect each other. We do. We both know that if he tried to kill me is because he was hired to, otherwise he wouldn't have done it. This is how we live. Professionalism, respect and punches." He said chuckling and the black male chuckled along with him. "We good?"

"Yeah." Hardison smiled and briefly hugged him before Eliot shoved him off.

"Parker?" The hitter said, looking at the blond girl.

"What? I was never mad at you." She said and went to Archie.

"She definitely is one of a kind." Eliot said as he walked away, shaking his head, and sat down next to Quinn.

"Everything alright?" The blond asked, taking his eyes off his gun to look to the bright blue eyes.

"Yeah. Nice gun you got there." He said.

"Thanks. Heard you don't like guns." Quinn replied.

"And I don't. I can use them but I prefer hand to hand." He said taking it from the other hitter's hand. "I've done terrible things with one of those, you know? Killed so many people that shouldn't have died."

Michael nodded: he knew what Eliot meant, in their job, it didn't matter if the target was a good guy or a bad guy, the job had to be done and that was final. If not, you were the one ending dead.

"Guys. Let's get to it."

The mission had been a complete success: Dubenich and Latimer where gone, they had stolen their money and Nate's dad was avenged.

Eliot should be happy because of this, but he wasn't looking forward for one thing in particular: saying good-bye to Quinn.

The blond was packing everything up when he stepped in. "Got a minute?" He said and Quinn spun around, nodding. "I was thinking… would you like two stay over a couple of days? You haven't really seen the city and I thought we could do some tourism."

And Quinn nodded, a grin creeping up his face. "I would love that." He replied, stopping to pack his things up.

"Great. Besides, I think I told you I would cook dinner for you if you didn't kill Chaos."

"That you did. What are you gonna make?" He asked, unpacking his things again.

"Surprise." Eliot said and then went to the kitchen, quickly followed by the younger man. "Take a sit."

Michael did so and couldn't be more surprise for what he saw for the next two hours: Spencer moved around the kitchen like he belonged into the cooking business. The way he used the knives, how he picked the ingredients up, how he measured everything… He found himself completely relaxed observing the smaller man move around the kitchen.

"You okay?" Eliot said after a few minutes of silence.

"Yeah. I just like watching you cooking. You don't seem Eliot Spencer right now." He teased and Eliot chuckled.

"Cooking saved my life. I was about to lose it and then Toby helped me, he taught me everything I know." He smiled melancholically and wiped his hand in the rag on his shoulder. "Come here." Not even bothering to ask, Quinn did as told and went next to Eliot, who handed him a knife, position himself behind the blond and took his hands.

"W-what are you doing?" He stuttered, suddenly nervous.

"Teaching you how to use a knife… without killing anyone." He said and then started to move his hands, forcing Quinn's to move too.

The movements were precise and fluid and, after a few minutes, Eliot let go his hands and let Quinn do it in his own but Spencer didn't step back, he kept his chest pressed against the blonde's back.

"You are good." Eliot praised and Quinn felt a warm and fuzzy feeling filling him from the inside, he didn't know what it was, and it felt weird, but he liked it. A lot.

Neither of them seemed to realise that Eliot had his hands in his hips and his chin on his shoulder, telling him what to do. After another half an hour they were sitting around the table and eating.

"God. You are really good at this." Quinn said, startled: he didn't really thing it could be this good.

"Told you." He smiled smugly. "So, how was the experience of working on a team like mine?" He asked.

"Well, it was a new experience, that's for sure. Although I don't know how you put up with people like Hardison or Chaos." He said.

"He is not that bad. A geek, yes. A good friend, too." He replied, smirking.

"You care for them." The blond male said. It wasn't a question.

And Eliot nodded without hesitation. "They have become my family. A really weird one but… A family nonetheless."

"Was it difficult?" Quinn asked.

"What?"

"Working in a team for so long." He said. He knew Eliot had done jobs with other guys, hitters, but if the rumours were true, Eliot didn't usually cared for them since he more than once had abandoned them, did the job without them, and, in the worst scenario, killed them.

"Yes. At the beginning I couldn't understand why was I doing it. But then I saw that we were fucking amazing at what we did and I decided to stay. Besides, like I told you, I still freelance. After a big con, like this one, when we know we are being searched all over the states, we split up and reunite after a few months."

"Oh yeah. Nate mentioned something that you guys were going to be on your own for about six months." Michael said.

"Well, not exactly. Nate and Sophie probably are going to stay together most of the time. Hardison probably will man up and ask Parker out."

"And you?" Somehow, for some reason, Quinn wanted to know if Eliot was going to stay with some girl.

"I'll head out to Iran. Some guys need my help for some black ops." He explained.

"I thought you no longer were in the military."

"And I'm not. But sometimes they need people who know how to deal with stuff that the younger ones can't. When this happens, they call me. I've done some work in Pakistan with them too."

"Doesn't the White House interfere?"

Eliot chuckled and stood up, going to the shelves filled with folders and took a couple of them and then handed them to the younger male. "The U.S government doesn't know I'm hired to do some of the risky jobs. They don't know that some of their money goes to my account."

"You are not under surveillance?" He asked surprised.

"I've never done anything that could have put my country in danger, so no, I'm not. Although I know for a fact that the FBI, CIA, NSA, Interpol, Mossad, MI6, the North-Korean Secret Intelligent Agency and some other have a very thick and long files about me. Also in some other countries like Myanmar, Colombia and Croatia."

"What did you do in Pakistan?"

"Can't tell you. Classified information. Or as it Hardison refers to it 'Hinky stuff.'"

Quinn nodded, not pushing the subject, knowing that Spencer wouldn't tell him and started to read the papers in the folder that Eliot gave him. "You killed Al 'Qaeda's boss?"

"Yeah. Crawled three fucking miles." He grumbled.

"I thought that was done by a Black Ops team or something like that."

"No. Partially. I was sent by one General there because I'm the most qualified man that this one General knows. The team was sent to make it look real. I did my job, earned a really good sum of money and no one ever talked about that. The team was threatened with treason and being judged by War Crime if they ever said that they didn't do it." He explained.

"Would have you and this general in problems if they did?"

"Probably. We were acting behind the President's back. But they never saw me, so no one would have ever them." The man with brown hair said, shrugging. "Besides, I doubt that they would have done something to me. I've god friends in the top, Quinn. People who knows a lot of things that I've done… and yet, I'm still here. A free man."

Quinn kept reading the files while Eliot did the dishes and some coffee.

"Eliot."

"Yes?"

"According to this file, you deserted. According to this one, you didn't. This one says you are paraplegic."

"That's why no one knows a lot of things about my past. Everything is messed up. Not that I'm complaining, I can do what I want."

"What did you do? Did you walked away or not?"


	4. Chapter 4

"Our team was called out and illegal after some things happened. So, theoretically I did desert, practically, I didn't. That's why the files are messed up." He explained, smiling.

"What about the paraplegic one?"

"Faked it. I got into a hospital, threatened the doctor and told him to say I was paraplegic and then snuck out." He said.

Quinn end up staying a whole week with Eliot before they had to split ways: Eliot was going to Tehran and he had been hired in Eastern Europe.

"There. Call me if you never need my help any other time." The blond said as he handed Eliot his phone back at the same time the older male did the same with the blonde's phone.

"And you call if you need me to pay that favour back. Or if you just want to talk." He replied, smiling a bit.

"S-sure. Thank you." He was about to head to check-in when the Southerner grabbed his wrist. "W-what?"

"Don't I get a proper good-bye?" He pulled the man and hugged him, surprising the hell out of Michael and himself. "Good bye. Have a nice flight."

"Thanks. You too have a good flight."

Quinn could feel his cheeks burning and then he squeezed Eliot hard. "Thank you for everything, Eliot." He whispered.

"You're welcome. It was nice to have someone to talk to."

"Yeah. It was. Good luck, Eliot." He said, pulling away from the embrace and trying to fight down the blush.

"Good luck to you too, Huckleberry." And a shiver ran down Quinn's spine. "Hey, where are you heading to?"

"Minsk!" He replied.

And after that, they parted ways.

Eliot groaned when the hot dry air of Iran hit his face: this was something he didn't miss at all. Carrying just a bag with Army's clothes and some personal items (bandanas, leather bracelets…) and then walked to one of his old friends.

"Captain Johnson." He said, smiling a bit at the man.

"Commander." He said. "Welcome back home." He said, patting his back. "Let's go, the guys are eager to see you."

They got into a car and went to where their base was assembled.

"Tell me, Commander, have you ever thought on joining the Army again?" The Captain asked him.

"Me? I don't think I'd be from a lot of help, having in mind that most of the most famous Intelligence Agencies of the planet are looking for me." He replied. "Besides, I already help you out with these missions, what more do you want from a guy like me, Captain?"

"You are on of the best guys in your job that I have ever seen, Commander. You could certainly teach them a couple of things while you are here. How long are you staying in here, by the way?"

"Four months. I have some business I need to do in South-America and Russia." He explained, tying his hair up. "So, how many newbies do we have?"

"Seven. All of them just out of the school. Been trying to teach them some stuff, but they are all to excited to meet 'Eliot Spencer'. You could have been a General, Commander."

"And then what? Sit behind a table?" He shook his head. "No thank you. I prefer the action. I've been working with some people lately."

"I heard that. You are giving Interpol some serious trouble, aren't you?"

"Maybe." He jumped of the car and started to go inside the building.

"Eliot!" He turned around to see Shelly, trotting towards him.

"Shelly!" He exclaimed and then hugged with his long-time friend.

"They recruited you? Man, they have so little faith in us." He said in a fake sad voice.

"Nah. It's just that I'm the best." He said cockily and then laughed. "How have you been?"

"Bored. Spying section." The younger male replied as they walked to the bedroom. "This is yours." Eliot always slept alone because of his sleeping schedule. And because last time he had been there some of the other men that slept in the same room as him and didn't know who he was tried to pull a prank on him while he was sleeping and he ended up breaking some bones. "How's Bonnano?"

"His fine. We gave him some more criminals." He replied, letting his duffle bag fall from his shoulder.

"So, what happened to you and your team?" Shelly asked as they head out to the canteen.

"We pulled a big job two weeks ago, killed two men, well they actually fell from a dam… So we have Interpol, CIA, FBI and NSA behind us so we split. And meanwhile, I'll stay here for four months and then I'll go to Europe." He said.

"Now you do have a good life." Shelly said. "Oh. Most of them are really excited to finally know you so… prepare yourself."

"Wait a second. What do they know about me?"

"Just that you were, are since they thing you are still an on-duty Black op, one of the best."

"They don't know nothing about the other thing, then?"

"Not that I know off."

And when they opened the door, the canteen went silent in under a second and then everyone stood up. "They do know my rang is just commander, right?" He asked in a whisper.

"Yeah. But I told you, you are a legend." He patted his shoulder and then walked away. "I'll leave you on your own."

He was going to kill Shelly. And Johnson. And every single one of his old friends. He would kill them painfully and slowly. They had told the little bitches that if someone were able to get the bandana he was currently wearing and bring it to Capitan Johnson before dinner, whomever took it would have a double ration of food.

So far he had already turned ten down and he had spot three more in one corner.

Well, if he was meant to endure that, he was going to have fun with them. He stood there, watching everything, everyone and smirked when he heard footsteps approaching him.

"I wouldn't use that if I were you." He said as he turned around and took the Taser away. "Do you seriously use this, kid? Not going to save you your life."

"Had to try." The kid said, getting in combat position.

"Uh-oh. Hand-to-hand? Bad decision." He prompted the boy, who went for a punch in his stomach. Eliot blocked it and with one single hard punch knocked him out. "I hope you all bastards are having fun because when I'm done with these ladies I'll come after you!" He yelled at his walkie-talkie.

"Oh c'mon Eliot, you know you can't do that!" Marcus, another friend, said over the walkies.

"Do you want me to remember what I really do for living?" He growled.

"No. Not really." Marcus said.

"Thought so." He said and then growled. "Now, call your ladies off or some bones will be broken." He threatened.

"All right, all right, no need to get nasty." Capitan Johnson said and called the 'get-the-bandana-of-Eliot-fucking-Spencer' off.

At thousands of kilometres away from Eliot, certain blond hitter was siting on the edge of a roof, staring blankly ahead.

He didn't know why Eliot made him so nervous. Yes, it was _Eliot Spencer _and he, like many other hitter and mercenaries idolised him. At the beginning he wanted to _be_ Eliot Spencer. Now, after two weeks of living with him, he wanted to _be with_ Eliot Spencer.

He had some girlfriends and boyfriends through the years, but the longest relationship he had had only been three weeks long because he didn't want them to get hurt, because they couldn't know what he did for living, because they could have been used for his enemies… For so many reasons that he had always found logical and reasonable and that now were crumpling down because of the other hitter.

He had never met the guy in person besides that encounter at the hangar but he didn't expect someone so… casual. He expected a big ego, cockiness, and commands… And even if everything was there, it was nothing like he had imagined. He thought that Eliot would be arrogant and would take credit for everything; instead, the Eliot he met was nothing like it. And if his sources were correct, he had always been that way.

He knew what he needed to do. He needed to put distance between them, to ignore those weird feelings inside of him and to forget everything.

And yet, two weeks later, he found himself staring at his cell phone, Eliot's number on the screen, debating whether to text him or not.

_It's not going to hurt anyone._

'_How is everything?'_

He breathed deeply before pressing the _send_ button. He bit his lips, waiting for an answer. Hoping that Eliot would actually reply and not just ignore the message.

But the answer didn't come.

Maybe Eliot had lost his cell phone, maybe he didn't get reception, maybe he was busy or maybe he was actually ignoring him.

And for some reason, Quinn was running all those theories at the same time he tried to remember if he had wronged him someway.

He couldn't find any.

Michael was reading a book when his phone buzzed. He took it and smiled a bit when he saw it was from Eliot.

'_Sorry for the delay. I was out in a mission and couldn't reply. It's hot but fine. What about you?'_

That was longer that he had actually expected and he couldn't help to feel a bit excited.

'_Bored. Nothing comes up at this time of the year.' _

'_I remember that. Try to contact someone in Yemen, heard they are trying to do something big.'_

Yemen, huh? That was a country he still had to visit. It could be certainly interesting.

'_Never been in Yemen. Maybe I go down there. Who do I look for?'_

'_Asad Faheem. I'll contact him for you, if you want. I'll be the middleman, if you want me too.'_

He was about to do backflips. Seriously. Eliot freaking Spencer, the word's most famous hitter, retrieval specialist and mercenary was offering to be his middleman. It was just unbelievable.

'_If you don't mind.'_

'_Sure not. I know what it is to be without a job and without hitting anyone.'_ He couldn't help but chuckle at that.

'_Thank you, man. I really appreciate it.'_

'_It's okay. I'll call you tomorrow. I need to give a report. Have a good night.'_

'_You have a good night too. Thank again, man.'_

'_Stop thanking.'_

And after that, he fell sleep on the sofa, the cell phone on his chest.

Back in Iran, Eliot was staring at the ceiling of his room, cursing the dry hot heat of the environment. Next time he was going to take an offer to go to Middle Europe.

He called Faheem and asked him about that job he was putting together and then told hi that he wasn't going to join him, but that he had a friend that was interested in it. At first Faheem seemed a bit hesitant but when Eliot told him that his friend had broken two of his ribs, he accepted: anyone who could broke two of Spencer's ribs was good enough for any of his jobs.

Well, his part was done. Now he just had to call Quinn and let him know that he had been accepted if he agreed on taking the job and to explain him what it was about. But tomorrow, right now, he wanted to sleep. If he was able to, because the heat was driving him mad.


	5. Chapter 5

Eliot closed the phone when he Nate and Sophie stepped inside the brew/pub/restaurant where Nate told them to go.

He chuckled when Sophie asked him if he had a nice vacation. Sure, a nice vacation filled with bombs, retrievals, punches… and Quinn. They had met a few times while Michael was in Yemen. It was the good thing of being an in-and-out soldier, you could disappear for some days and no one would ever ask where had you been or what were you doing. Or, at least, not in an official way. They also met in Rome, Helsinki and in Detroit.

As a matter of fact, he was texting Michael when the lovey-dovey couple stepped inside. He seemed to be in the deep Russia pulling out a job for the mob.

They had finished the job and now, Eliot was suffering a full interrogatory by Hardison and Sophie specially.

"So, where have you really been with the army? Pakistan again?" Hardison asked again.

"For the thousand time, Hardison: I. Can't. Tell. You. Classified information and I have enough offenses in my files I don't want to add treason. You want to know? Break into the White House e-mail again." Spencer said.

"But…"

"Middle east, ok? And that's all I'm saying." He said. "I went to Rome, Helsinki, Detroit, Bogotá and visited Michael in Yemen."

"Michael? Who is Michael?" Parker chirped in.

Eliot gave himself a slap: of course they didn't know that Quinn's name was Michael.

"Quinn. Quinn's name is Michael." He replied, before taking a swig of his beer. Real beer, not the shit Hardison made.

"And why do you know this and we don't?" The black man asked.

"Because I am his friend and you are… not?" He answered arching an eyebrow.

"That makes sense. What was he doing in Yemen?" Sophie said as she sipped from her glass.

"I got him a job so I went to see how was he doing." He replied.

"But I thought you were with the Army."

"And I was. But since I'm an illegal man, I can go wherever I want whenever I want. Anyway, what did you two do?" He asked Parker.

"We went around the world, jumped off of some buildings, went on dates…" She listed.

They kept talking until they decided it was time to call it a night.

"Where are you going Eliot?" Nate asked when the hitter headed outside.

"My condo." He replied as if it was obvious.

"Your condo? You got here yesterday, how can you have a condo already?" Hardison asked, impressed.

"Nigerian mob." He said.

"What?"

"I threatened the New Zealander mob. I killed their leader a couple of years ago so now they do whatever I want them to do. So if I ask for a condo, they get me a condo." He replied. "Being a mercenary is more than just bust heads open, guys." He said and then left, chuckling, wondering if they actually believed that. He had just called a realtor and said that he wanted a house. They visited houses in Lake Oswego and he bought the second they visited. Good thing to have an enormous bank account.

Weeks went by and they fell into their no-routine again. They had just gotten back from a job and Eliot felt like cooking for the five of them.

"Do you wanna come to my house?" he asked suddenly and the other four just stared at him, wondering if someone hit his head a bit to hard. "Well?"

"Sure!" Parker said and the rest nodded.

"Come here in… an three hours or so." He gave Nate a paper where he had written his address.

"Lake Oswego? You have a house in Lake Oswego?" Hardison shrieked only to find out that Eliot wasn't there anymore. "He really has a house in Lake Oswego?"

"I don't Hardison. Probably. Only God knows how much money he has." Sophie said and patted his shoulder. "Let's go, Nate."

Three hours later they stood in front of the house, staring. "He really lives here?" Hardison said. "Do you think he stole a bank or something? Because I don't believe the mob thing he told us." He asked.

"Rob a bank doesn't sound like Eliot at all." Ford replied.

"Let's go." Parker said, tugging Alec, and surprisingly, she rang the bell.

A few seconds later the door opened, but it wasn't exactly Eliot who opened the door. It was a kid, about fifteen years old.

"Uncle? There's a bunch of people out here." The kid said in the same twang Eliot possessed.

"Oh. C'mon in." They stepped inside and Eliot came next to them, wiping his hands with a rag. "I forgot that my sister was coming over tonight." He apologised.

"We can come tomorrow." Nate offered, ignoring the three hatred glances he received.

"It's fine, don't worry. I've made food for the eight of us, anyway. One thing, they don't know about… what I do so…"

"Understood. What do they think you do?" Hardison asked.

"They think I'm still in the Army." He replied.

"With a hair like that?"

"I just said that it was because I'm usually one of the ones who get infiltrated." He shrugged and then walked to the kitchen, where a woman and three kids were waiting. "Guys, these are my sister, Meredith, and my nephews and niece, Gabriel, and the twins Agnes and Raphael. Mer, these are my friends, Sophie, Parker, Nate and Hardison." He introduced everyone. "You and you," he said pointing at the thief and the hacker. "Come with me for a second." He led them to his bedroom.

"What's up?"

"Give me everything electronic you have." He said to the man and extending his hand and reluctantly Alec handed his phone, and MP4 and some other stuff he didn't recognise. "And you don't go sneaking around." The woman nodded. "Look guys, I don't want you to go sneaking around in my stuff and believe me it's better if you don't know." They both nodded and Eliot handed his hand to the blonde. "And now give me Raphael's phone."

"How did you…?"

"You are not the only one with pickpocketing skills, Parker." He said, laughing a bit. "Let's go."

When they went back to the kitchen, Eliot resumed his previous actions and almost rolled his eyes when he heard Nate talking with Gabriel about something related to the Bible and Sophie was talking with Meredith about normal stuff. The twins paired up with the other two.

Meredith had the same bright blue eyes and thick mahogany mane he had, although her hair was definitely curly, her skin was a bit paler than his, her face was round and stylized, she was a bit taller than him and her eyes were softer and warner than his but of course, she didn't see the things he had seen.

Gabriel had black short hair, tan skin and brown eyes. The twins had dark brown hair and green eyes and tan skin too.

The twins were only three years younger than Gabriel. Meredith adopted them a few years ago. They were really different from their older brother: while it wouldn't surprise Eliot if Gabriel ended up in a seminary and then being a Father the twins hadn't put a foot inside a church willingly. Meredith went to Mass every Sunday

"Okay, people, dinner's ready." He said as he brought the food to the table. "I hope you all will like it."

"'Course. Your food is always amazing." Hardison said. Everyone was about to start eating, as they always did when Gabriel spoke.

"Aren't we going to thank the Lord for this meal, Uncle?" He asked and Eliot almost cursed.

"Sure, Gabriel." He said and Gabriel nodded.

"Father of us all, this meal is a sign of Your love for us: bless us and bless our food, and help us to give you glory each day through Jesus Christ our Lord."

"Amen." Everyone said, although only the oldest kid and Nate did the sign of the cross.

After that they started eating and Meredith stared at her brother with wide-open eyes. "When did you learn to cook?" She asked.

Eliot gulped, not really knowing what to answer. "I… Some years ago I was in an undercover mission in Paris and I worked as cook in a restaurant so I had to learn how to cook." He explained.

"You've been to Paris, Uncle?" Agnes asked excitedly.

"Yes. Beautiful city." He replied and smiled at his niece.

They had a great meal and even Gabriel opened up to his Uncle. They had never been really close, especially due to the fact that Eliot was always out when he was little. His father died when he was only seven and since then he started to go to the Church ever time he could and he started to believe more and more in God. He had never approved what his uncle did for living, and he didn't even know half of it. The twins, on the hand, always loved him, especially Agnes, since Mer adopted them. It was Eliot who convinced her to adopt both kids and not just the girl.

But of course, Raphael had to ask what they did for living. There was a moment of tension before Nate spoke.

"I work for IYS as a fraud investigator." He said.

"I work at classifying art works with Parker's help." Sophie said before the blond said something inappropriate.

"And I work for the FBI at the IT section." Hardison replied.

"Wow! You really work for the FBI? Can we see your badge?" Raphael asked, looking up at him.

"Sure." Right now, Hardison was thanking god: he had his fake badge in his jacket. "Wait up here." He said as he went to get it.

"So, El, tell me, how did you five meet?" The Southerner women asked her brother.

"Well… I met Nate while doing a mission, he was… what were you investigating?"

"The disappearance of _The Persistence of Memory_, a paint by Dalí." He explained. "The Boston Museum had insured in my company."

"Oh right. You know I'm not really into the art's world, Mer." She laughed and nodded. "Well, it seemed to be that we were after the same guy, an Iranian who was trafficking guns from the USA to Iran so be joined forces. It was then that I met Sophie and Parker."

"What about Mr. Hardison?" Raphael asked. The kid sure loved the hacker.

"Met him by casualty. General Vance made a team with me, Shelley, a couple of guys from CIA, a couple more from NSA and him." He quickly invented.

"Here it is." He tossed the badge to the younger male who looked at it as if he was watching the most precious thing in the world.

They had resumed their conversation while Hardison made up some stories about him being in the FBI when Eliot's cell-phone (one of the few gadgets he actually used) rang. Frowning he got up and answer it.

"Hello?"

"**Eliot?"**

"Michael!" He exclaimed, suddenly happy that he had called. "What's going on?"

"**Everything's fine although… could you tell me something?"**

"Sure. About what?"

"**The Russian mob."** Came form the other end of the phone.

"Of course. Wait a second." He looked at his guests and smiled apologetically. "I need to take this. I'll be right back." He went to his bedroom and sat down on the bed. "Ok. What is it?"

"**Do you, by any chance, know what kind of deals the mob had with the Moscone family?"**

"Moscone… Oh! The Wedding one. Sorry, we put him in prison. I don't know, but the Butcher of Kiev was involved which either means…"

"**Money laundring or armament. Thank you Eliot."**

"No need for, Michael." He replied.

"**Would… would you call me Mike? I don't like how Michael sounds."** The other hitter asked form the other side of the line.

"Sure. Huckleberry." He replied, chuckling when he heard a grunt.

"**Are you ever let go of that?"**

"No." He just replied. "Hey, I gotta go, I have the guy and my sister and her kids in here. I'll call you tomorrow so I can give you more details, all right?"

"**Sure. As you want."** He replied. **"Say hi to them for me."**

"'Course. Take care. And if you see Sergei face to face, would you mind saying hi for me?"

"Sure not. Have fun."

"You too."

After that, they hung up and Eliot went back to the dinning room. "Everything ok?" Nate asked.

"Yeah. He just needed some info." He replied and smiled to his sister. "Where are you staying?" He asked.

"We rented a room at a Hotel Inn." She replied.

"You could have just stayed here, Mer." He said, tilting his head.

"El, please, I've seen how you have this place: not too many people comes here, right? Besides, you don't like kids." She said.

"I do like kids it's just…" That most of them were afraid of him.

"It's ok. We can have breakfast tomorrow if you want." She suggested, her hands covering Eliot's.

"Sounds good." He replied.

A few hours later the twins were sleeping on the couch, Gabriel was reading some book he took from Eliot's shelf so Meredith decided it was time for them to go back at the hotel.

"Good night El. Sleep tight." She said and his crew watched, mesmerised how he kissed his cheek and hugged the kids.

"You too. And be careful." He replied.

When the Spencer family left, he turned around. "I thought you only had one nephew." Nate said.

"The twins are adopted." He replied. "She adopted them… about six years ago or so."

"What about their father?"

"He was killed. They made it look like he had committed suicide." He simply stated.

"How do you know that?" Parker asked, sitting on the counter.

"There were two sets of footprints, but they were using the same shoes Charles did, that's why the police never opened an investigation. Also the fact that the knot was very well done… and Charles had no idea how to do knots. Still, it was a good thing for Meredith."

"What? How can you say that?" Sophie asked, shocked.

"He was keeping her away from everyone. He didn't hit her because he knew if he did, I would be there right away." He explained. "Besides, he knew what I did for living."

"He knew? How?"

"He worked for the NSA. And I've got a really long file in there. And CIA, FBI, OSS and a few other Agencies."

"I thought OSS dissolved in 1945." Nate said.

"To the public, it did. Officially, it didn't. It's inside the CIA but they have their own rules." He said.

"How do you even know that? I mean, if it was Hardison who said that but you…" Sophie said.

"Retrieval job. That's how I got in their list." He shrugged.

"What did you steal?" Parker asked.

"Documents. I don't even know what they were about." He replied.

They chatted a bit more before everyone went to their respective homes. But before, Hardison had to ask the question that had been bugging him all night.

"Hey, how did you get this house? Because I don't believe the New Zealander mob story you pull out."

Eliot smirked. "Money, man, money. You can stole a bank and get… what? Half a million dollar each time without getting caught?" Hardison made an appreciative movement. "I kill a fat-cat, they give me one million, I steal something they give around half-million, working for Damien Moreau? A million per job and I didn't have to waste anything since he paid everything."

"How much money do you have then?" Parker asked.

"Right. Like I'm going to tell you that." He said and pushed them outside. "But I'll tell you something, best job ever, to kill a president." After that he closed the door, chuckling at himself as he imagined the faces they would have.

He had started to learn to joke about his job around them just mess their brains up. After he had cleaned up, he went to a room full of shelves and pulled two folders out: one said Nicky Moscone and the other one said Sergei.


	6. Chapter 6

Quinn stepped inside the brew/pub and arched an eyebrow when he saw how crowded it was, he definitely didn't expect this when Eliot told him about it. When a waiter walked passed him he stopped her.

"Hey, do you know if Eliot is around?"

"Eliot?" She repeated stupidly as she stared at him.

"Not too tall, long hair, blue eyes…" He started describing him his fellow hitter to the girl, whom he had decided he didn't like, when another waiter came to them.

"He's in the kitchen." She said to him, smiling warmly. "Janis, go do your tables." She told to the stupid waiter. "I'm Amy. Would you like to tell Chef Eliot to come outside?" She led him to one stool by the bar.

"Please." He replied, flashing her a small smile.

"Would you like anything?" She asked.

"A beer. Best one you have." He asked and she nodded before disappearing to get him his drink.

Only it wasn't her who brought it to him. Quinn arched an eyebrow at the hand covered with multiple scars and then looked at the man with those hands, who was smirking at him.

"You got shot." The blond said looking at his leg as the man sat down next to him, grimacing.

The man huffed at that. "Nice to see you again, Mike."

"You too, Eliot." He replied, smirking and taking a swig of his beer. "Shit, that's really good, what brand is it?"

"None. We brew it."

"Really? Cool." He smiled and leaned over to hug him, the gesture being copied but just with one arm. "The shoulder too?"

"Yeah." He nodded before he asked the bartender for a beer for himself.

"What happened? You ran into an ambush?" Quinn asked jokingly.

"We were in Washington DC finishing up a job when I got contacted by… an old acquaintance. He wanted me to do a job, I refused and instead we stopped a terrorist attack. Terrorist had a gun, we were in a train…" He trailed off and shrugged, grimacing when his shoulder throbbed.

"Trains are bitches. Not too much place to move or hide and too many people can die." Quinn said, nodding. "In and out?" He asked, looking at Spencer's injures.

"Yeah. That's why I'm here, Nate doesn't let me participate in any con until I'm healed." He grumbled. "But at least I can go and in of the kitchen to take supplies and help the guys out." Quinn chuckled at that.

"So, are they away?"

"Nah. They are in the back, running some stuff. They got some free days." Eliot replied. "Wanna see them?"

"Sure. But… shouldn't you be in the kitchen helping them out?" He asked as the elder stood up, wobbling a bit as he put his bad leg on the floor first and Quinn quickly put his hands on his waist, steading him. They started back to a door that had a prohibition signal.

"They can handle themselves." He said as he opened said door. "Hey guys!" He said and all of them turned to see them.

"I thought you were in the pub helping in the kitchen." Nate pointed out.

"We have a visit." He said slowly joining the rest, trying not to trip with the steps and Quinn trailing right behind him, putting a hand on the small of Eliot's back, just in case.

"Hey guys." He greeted, smiling at them. "How you doing?" He asked, helping Eliot to sit down and ignoring the grunt he received for that. "You ain't scaring me, old man."

"Call me that again and I'll kick your ass. Again." He threatened him, but there was no real heat in it.

"Quinn!" Sophie exclaimed, walking to him and hugging the blond hitter. Parker also hugged him and the males shook hands. "What you doing here?"

"I was in the neighbourhood." He replied, sitting in the armrest of Eliot's armchair.

"In the neighbourhood." Hardison repeated.

"No seriously. I have a cousin that lives in Lake Oswego and we were talking when he said his new neighbour was… weird. So I asked why. He said that this neighbour had never gone to any of the social gatherings, didn't go to any house to let them know who he is, that he had an amazing orange car, that worked at a brew/pub downtown… and that he had seen his face somewhere." By the end of the explanation he was looking at Eliot with an arched. "And then he said that working on a pub didn't give enough money to buy a house at Lake Oswego and that he barely was home."

"So?" Parker asked. "Could be anyone."

"Yeah. Thing is everything points at Eliot." The blond hitter said.

"But you said that he had seen him somewhere." The thief said.

"Yeah. And he did. At NSA files." He replied, smirking.

There was a moment of silence before Hardison spoke again. "A-are you saying that your cousin who happens to be Eliot's neighbour is a NSA agent?"

"Yeah." He nodded and Eliot chuckled.

"Maybe I should go say hi." The older hitter said. "Hey, wait, how did he know that I work here?" He asked.

"He followed you. He couldn't find anything by the name 'Frank Perr' and he likes to know who is he co-living with."

After that they had a light chitchat about some jobs the crew had done, about some of the job Quinn had been involved with...

"So, for how long are you staying around?" Nate asked.

"Couple of weeks. I have a job that I need to take care of." He answered. "I'm staying at my cousin's, maybe you could come by and say hi."

"Sure thing." Spencer said, nodding. "Better yet, you can all come over one day and you bring him so we can have a nice get together."

"That's a great idea, Eliot. I'm sure he won't mind to have five of the most wanted criminals in the country having dinner at the house of one of said criminals." Hardison growled.

"We played poker with Bonnano!" The Southerner said, arching an eyebrow.

"Yeah. But Bonnano didn't work for the NSA!" The Afro-American retorted.

"He has serious issues with hysteria." Quinn told Eliot in German, causing Eliot to chuckle and Sophie giggled.

"W-what did he say?" He asked, looking at everyone. Nate and Parker shrugged.

"Nothing that was too far off." Eliot answered, smirking. "Anyway, come over tomorrow and we'll have dinner with his cousin."

"You weren't joking about this?" Sophie asked.

"No. Besides, I better have him as a friend than as an enemy." He stood up, growling when his leg hurt, what caused Quinn to move with him. "I'm fine, I'm fine." He said, swatting the blonde hitter's hands away, not seeing the hurt in his eyes. "I'm going home. I'll see you tomorrow."

He was almost at the door when Nate spoke. "Wait a second, Eliot. How did you get here? Because you car isn't parked outside."

Spencer licked his lower lip. "I came with the motorcycle."

Sophie walked up at him. "You did what? You are injured Eliot! You can't go driving that two-wheeled thing." She said, hands on her hips and looking deadly serious.

"C'mon Sophie, I've been worse and drove motorcycles!" He growled and started to walk outside.

Quinn shook his head. "Don't worry, I'll drive him home." He smiled at Sophie, who nodded in agreement.

"What makes you think that he'll come with you?" Parker asked.

"For starters, the fact that I know him and how he acts. Second, if he refuses, I can knock him out." He said and left the room. "Eliot! Wait!" He yelled and the other man stopped.

"What is it?"

"Let's go. I'll drive you home." He said, pushing him towards his car.

"Quinn…" Spencer started.

"I know you can drive it without problem, ok? But I prefer to drive you home, ok?" He said, blushing slightly.

And Eliot couldn't help but think that he looked so pretty like that. "Ok, let's go." He acceded as he followed the blond hitter inside.

They didn't talk during the ride. They arrived at the eldest home and Quinn went to help him when he saw that he barely could walk. Without saying anything, he wrapped a strong arm around his waist and helped him. Once inside the home, he helped Eliot to sit down on the sofa.

"Are you talking the pain killers?" He asked suspiciously as he eased him down until he was laying down and put a couple of cushions under his injured leg and then one under his head.

"No. And I don't need a mother hen fussing over me." He growled. And as soon as he had said them, he realised that he was being a huge dick to him. "I'm sorry, Mike." He apologised, smiling sheepishly and then patted the bit of sofa that was free. "I didn't mean to hurt you. It's just that I hate to be injured. Or sick."

"I know. I hate it too." He replied. "Where are the meds, Eliot?" The Southerner didn't reply. "Eliot, where are the meds."

"Bathroom. Top shelf." He finally replied when he realised that he was not going to win that argument.

Quinn nodded and went to get them, coming back after a minute or so with a glass of water too. He then sat down next to him and handed him to pills and said glass and Eliot took them and swallowed the capsules, scowling at him.

"Did you go to the hospital?" Quinn asked as he started to undo the buttons of the shirt.

"I don't like hospital. They ask too many questions that I can never answer." He growled. "What at are you exactly doing?"

"Checking the injuries." He replied as he started to take the wife-beater out, careful not to hurt his shoulder. He then unwrapped the bandages, frowning deeply. "Eliot, this is fucking infected!" He said, pressing at the pink area softly and earning a pained growl.

"C'mon, we both know it ain't this bad." Eliot replied.

"Whatever you say." He went back to the bathroom and came back with everything he needed to cure his shoulder. "Seriously man, how are you even alive?" he asked as he started to disinfect the wound.

"Miracle." Eliot growled in response. After a few minutes Michael was done. "Thanks Mike." He said, voice sleepy as the meds started to make effect. But he came back to his senses when he felt two hands undoing the button of his jeans. "What the hell Mike?" He batted his hands away, but Quinn resumed his actions after the little hand fight.

"How am I supposed to check this one if you have your pants on? Don't be such a baby and let me see." He sneaked a hand around the older hitter's waist to lift it up and then carefully lowered the jeans. "Why the hell do you wear jeans anyway? You'd be way more comfortable with sweatpants." He said as he unwrapped the bandage of his thigh. "Well, at least you took care of this one." He sighed as he wrapped new bandages to cover it.

After he finished with it he went to put everything back in place and when he came back he couldn't stop and stare at Eliot. He was sitting there, his head thrown back, eyes closed and… almost naked. His firm abdomen, strong legs and thighs and his powerful arms were all exposed.

God, Eliot Spencer was probably one of the finest persons he had ever seen. And he had seen quite a few.

Snapping out of his thoughts, he walked up to him and poked his cheek.

"What?" Spencer grumbled, glaring at him.

"One, told you that you won't scare me away like you can scare Hardison. Two, you need to go to bed."

"Bed? It's only 9pm." He whinged.

"And you are injured." The blond retorted as he bended and helped his up and to his room. Once in to his room he left his side. "Your pyjama?"

"I'll sleep like that." Eliot only said as he got into bed.

"Need anything?" Quinn asked as he leaned against the wall.

And because of the dark, he didn't see the small blush that crept to Eliot's cheeks. "Do you have to head to your cousin's house?"

"Huh? I told him I would stay at a hotel. I don't have the best relationship with his wife." He replied. "Why?"

"Would you… Would mine staying here tonight?" He asked. "You don't have to it's just… This is really big and…"

"Feels empty." Mike finished. "I get the feeling. That's why I moved to a smaller apartment in L.A." He walked towards the bed and sat down, facing him. "Where's the other room?"

Eliot blushed even more and _almost _whined. "There isn't. I actually thought you could… sleep here. With me." He said.

"In the same bed?" He inquired with incredulous voice.

"As I said you don't have to…"

"It's cool." He stood up, stripped and slid inside the bed. "You okay?"

"Besides being almost high form the meds? Yeah, I'm fine." He mumbled as he scooted closer to Quinn.

The meds. Of course. That's why he was acting so strangely. Eliot never took meds unless he was forced to, and not so many doctors had the balls to force him to take meds. Probably he actually _was_ high from them. How could he have missed that?

Michael was about to get out of bed when Eliot let out a contented sighed and threw loosely and arm around his mid section and squeezed softly.

"Night, Mike." He heard him whispering so he got comfortable, eased himself, put a hand over Eliot's elbow, closed his eyes and drifted off to sleep too.

"Good night, Eliot." He whispered back.

Probably tomorrow Eliot would kick his out of the house and tell him to fuck off forever, but right now? Right now he was going to enjoy this as much as he could. He put a lock of hair behind his ear and let his hand caress his cheek.

Thank God the meds had kicked in with all their power already.


	7. Chapter 7

When Eliot woke up, the first thing he did was chuckle. He could feel Quinn's head was on his sane shoulder, the warm breath hitting his neck. Smelled like lemon and peppermint. He snuggled closer to the other hitter and ran a hand through the soft blond hair.

He couldn't believe that Mike had actually slept next to him. He thought he would refuse, freak out and then leave. Seemed to be that the "being high because of the meds" excuse worked out nicely. He couldn't believe either that Mike had really bought that. What kind of elite soldier would get high from painkillers?

Slowly, le laid Quinn on his stomach and then he blinked when he saw the scars that criss-crossed the muscular back. He could tell right away that those had been made with a whip or a cat o'nine tails. More likely the cat o'nine tails. Probably North Korea. He trailed some of them with his fingertips, frowning. Those were recent, maybe one or two years. He also had some of those, but his were in his legs, to prevent him from running. That's why he always used long jeans or trousers. He wasn't ashamed of having them, for a hitter, the scars were like a record book, but he hated the looks people gave him.

He finally stood up, clad himself in sweatpants and a tank top and walked to the kitchen to start preparing breakfast for the two of them. Scrambled eggs, bacon, pancakes, fresh orange juice, coffee and toasts. Yeah, that would do.

He was making the pancakes when he heard the unmistakable sound of bare feet coming his way.

"You should be in bed resting." Quinn said as he walked up to him, rubbing his eye and Eliot couldn't help but think that he looked almost innocent like that, wearing only his jeans, his hair all messed up and sleepy face. "Are you saying you don't want to eat my delicious food?" Eliot asked teasingly as he pushed a dish to him.

The blond snorted and sat down. "Never said that." He took the offered dish and started eating, humming in appreciation. "This' really delicious." He praised and Eliot chuckled as he sat next to him, eating his own food. "So… were you serious about the dinner?"

"Uh-huh. Besides, our charges have been dropped." He said.

"Yeah? How come?" Mike asked, grinning.

"Remember I told you we got contacted by an old acquaintance in DC?" The blond nodded as he took another forkful of egg. "He is a General. He told us he would drop our charges if we stopped the terrorist attack."

"If?" He asked, tilting his head.

"We would have end up dead if we didn't stop him." Eliot replied, shrugging and the Northern couldn't help but laugh at the careless look on the elder's face. "So, does your cousin know what you do for living?"

"Hell no. He takes his job very seriously. He always says the first thing is the country, the second thing is the country, third God and then comes family. He put his own brother in jail! And only because he was a drug dealer. Imagine would he would do to me if he knew what I did." He said, shaking his head.

"So… you are not in the NSA files?"

"I am. But I have a friend and told him to keep me out of his eyes."

"Nice…"Before he could say anything else, a cell-phone rang. Quinn lazily stood up and went to pick it up.

"Hey John." He said. "What's up?" He smiled and sat down again as he mouthed to Eliot 'my cousin'. Spencer chuckled next to him.

"**Where are you?"**

"At a friend's."

"**And why is your car parked next to my neighbours?"**

"As I said, I'm at a friend's." He repeated. "We'll talk later. Give twenty minutes and I'll come over." And then he hung up.

"So?"

"He was wondering why my car was parked to his neighbours house. Seriously, sometimes he treats me like I'm a kid." He growled and the injured man couldn't help but laugh at that.

They kept talking, about the job Eliot and the crew had pulled off, about the little trip Mike did to Russia, while they cleaned the dishes and then got dressed.

"Hey, Eliot, I really think you should rest. That wound in your shoulder doesn't look cool at all." Quinn tried to reason with him, even if he knew that if it had been the other way round, he wouldn't agree to rest either.

"And what am I supposed to do here?" He growled. "Let's say hi to your cousin so he knows you are safe in sound and then you drive me to the pub."

"C'mon, Eliot. You know as well as I that the moment you step in Sophie will be all over you. Now head to bed and rest like a normal person who has been shot twice would."

Eliot snarled and launched himself at him, tackling him to the ground. They started rolling on the floor, punching each other, Quinn always careful to not injure Spencer any further. They were so engrossed in their wrestling moment that they didn't even realised that they had thrown lots of books and broke what seemed to be a piece of really expensive porcelain and a couple of chairs.

And because Quinn was avoiding hitting him in his shoulder and leg after about five minutes or so, he found himself facing the floor, Eliot sitting down on the small of his back and in a powerful neck-lock. He started tapping on the floor.

"Uh-uh, Mike." He heard him chuckle. "Say it, Mike."

"Never!" He replied with raspy voice.

And suddenly, the front door opened and guy, bigger than the both of them, with almost no hair and dark brown eyes appeared in front of them!

"Let him go you bastard!" They heard and Eliot let go of Quinn, who smirked at him and the oldest hitter rolled his eyes. "You okay, Mikey?" Spencer couldn't help himself when he let out a laugh. "What are you laughing about?"

"You calling Quinn Mikey."

The new arrived just ignored him as he turned to check the blond hitter. "Are you okay? Did he hurt you?" He asked again as he started to roam his hands over his body, looking for injuries.

"I'm ok, John." Quinn said, batting his hands away, frowning. "What are you doing here?"

"What are_ you_ doing here?" He asked back.

"I asked first." John replied in a growl.

"As I said, Frank and I are friends." He answered with a shrug.

"He was choking you." John pointed out.

"We were just fooling around."

"Destroying half of the house?" He made a gesture with his arm to show them what they did.

"Oops. Maybe we took it a bit to far, huh?" Quinn said as he turned to Eliot who chuckled, low on his throat.

"Seems that way, Huckleberry." The younger hitter stuck out his tongue at him at that.

"Was he trying to force you?" John asked, his eyes holding Eliot's intense gaze. Michael didn't reply, he just lowered his eyes and blushed, his mind filled with images of Eliot taking him while he was in a neck-lock… or him taking the elder hitter. "Was he?"

"What? No! Of course not! Will you stop worrying? I can take care of myself, John!" The blond hitter yelled.

"Didn't seem it two minutes ago!"

"We were wrestling! Just playing for God's sake!"

They got into a full screaming match in which Eliot finally stepped in, putting a hand on Quinn's forearm since the hitter seemed ready to break a few of his cousin's bones. Surprisingly, when Eliot squeezed his forearm softly he calmed down immediately but he still breathed hard.

"Calm down. Both of you." He shot a small smile to Quinn he smiled in return and then looked at John. "I've been wanting to invite you over for dinner, just didn't find time. You free tonight?" He asked looking at him straight in the eye, almost daring him to say no.

"Yeah. What time do you want me to come?"

"About nine, sounds good?" He asked.

"Sure. If you excuse me." John walked away, not without narrowing his eyes at his cousin before.

Once they were alone again, both hitters looked around and grimaced. "Maybe we got a bit too carried away." Eliot said.

"You think?" Mike said, grinning as he picked up some books.

"And Sophie is going to fucking kill us." Eliot grumbled.

"What for?" He observed how the oldest hitter went where the broken china was and bended over to pick a piece of it. And Quinn had to give it to him: he had such a nice ass. Round, firm… He needed to stop thinking like that. Eliot would kill him if he ever found out what he thought about him.

"She gave it to me and she sure as hell won't be happy if she realises that it's missing." He said.

Quinn chuckled and shook his head. Once they had everything more or less tidied up, they showered, (in turns, much to Mike's dislike), got dressed and headed down to the pub.

"Morning." Mike greeted to the other four.

"Hi Quinn. Where's Eliot?" Parker asked after she swallowed her cereal.

"In the kitchen." He replied, shrugging. "He didn't let me get in there. What are you guys doing?" He asked.

"We met a client the other day and we are trying to figure it out how are we going to pull it out with Eliot." Sophie replied.

And then, everyone looked at him. "What?"

"Do you have any jobs on sight?" Nate asked him.

"Not really. It's a low time for hitters now. Why? You want me to help you with this one?" He asked, finally getting the staring.

"It would be just a week but…"

"I can stay here until Eliot is fully healed." He interrupted, offering.

"Y-you would?" Hardison stammered. He didn't really know the guy and he didn't trust completely, he had tried to kill Eliot once, however Eliot seemed awfully comfortable around him, even happier, so he guessed that nothing would happen to them. If Eliot trusted him enough to let him stay at his house when he was injured, he guessed they could trust him too. On some level.

"Sure. You guys obviously need a hitter and, as I said, there are not jobs for us right now." He said. "So, what's the case?"

They briefed him on the case: A young man contacted them to stop the metro on his neighbourhood, the installations were not safe enough and they had been having temblors for seven months now. One of the temblors had been hard enough to make building crumble. It ended with seven lives. One of them was his younger sister. The city hall made sure that no one heard of it. Now it was their job to make sure that _everyone_ heard about it.

They started discussing about it and when they heard the door open, they saw Eliot, followed by Amy and another waiter came in, both carrying dishes full of delicious food.

"What you doing?" He asked as he moved next to Quinn, who was now sitting on one of the couches and had moved a bit so Spencer could sit too.

"Quinn is going to stay here and help us out until you are fully recovered." Parker chirped as she took one of the dishes fro Amy. "Thank you Amy." She said and the waiter smiled to her in return.

"Low time, huh?" Eliot said as he shifted and raised his leg and put it on the coffee table.

"You know it." The blond replied, smirking before accepting his own food.

"Thank you. I guess I owe you another favour." Eliot said as he closed his eyes. Damn, his shoulder was killing him. Maybe he should have listened to Mike and actually rested in his bed.

"This one's for free." He replied and then looked at him, worried. "Are you ok?" Michael asked, frowning a bit.

"Yeah." He breathed out and then slowly moved until his head was resting against Quinn's arm, who, without even asking just moved in to wrap his arm around his shoulder and let Eliot rest his head on his chest.

"Do you need another pill?" He asked, cursing himself to have wrestled with him, he should have known better.

"Not yet." And then, in front of his teammates, he fell sleep. Something that he had never done in the previous years.

Nate arched and eyebrow at that, Sophie smiled sweetly at the picture, Hardison smirked and took a picture (these would be a perfect way to get Eliot do whatever he wanted) and Parker only blinked.

They all kept eating, in silence, until Nate broke it.

"Guys, could you leave me alone with Quinn for a minute, please? I need to have a word with him."

They all nodded and Hardison even had the decency to shut every gadget off to give them privacy. Once they were gone, Nate sat across him.

"What is it?" Quinn asked.

"You should tell him." Nate only said.

"Excuse me?"

"Don't play dumb with me, Quinn. I see how you look at him, how you two interact, how he _lets his guard down_ around you." He just motioned to the now sleeping hitter. "We've never seen him sleeping for about five years, you come around and he falls sleep. On your chest." He pointed out.

"I… Do you want me to go away?"

"I would never ask you that. Eliot is happy when you are around, we all noticed that. And you were kind enough to offer your help until he is healed. I just want you to take care him… and not hurt yourself in the process." Nate stood up and Quinn blinked, thinking that this was fucking weird: the guy barely knew him but he kind of guessed how he felt. Ford actually sounded like he cared for him.

He sighed. Fuck. Now he understood why Eliot didn't want to walk away from them. They really were a family.

He was just sad that he would never get to be part of it.


End file.
